


A Grave New World

by waywardrose



Category: The Dead Don't Die (2019)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Kissing, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, beheadings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: You’d only gone on one date—a really nice date, too—with Ronnie Peterson and then the zombie apocalypse happened.Like, what the actual fuck?





	A Grave New World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cowboykylux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/gifts), [BourbonBoredom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BourbonBoredom/gifts).



> For @babbushka (aka cowboykylux) and @bourbonboredom (aka BourbonBoredom) on tumblr

You’d only gone on one date—a really nice date, too—with Ronnie Peterson and then the zombie apocalypse happened.  _Like, what the actual fuck?_  You didn’t know if he was okay. No one picked up the phone at the station. His home phone was disconnected—or at least that’s what the automated message from the phone company said.

You rushed to your parents’ house. The twilight streets were littered with dead bodies. Actual dead, not shuffling zombies moaning about  _The Real Housewives_  reunion. As a kid, you’d thought living down the street from a cemetery was no big deal, but it had become one in the past few days.

Your parents’ house was dark, but most of the houses in the neighborhood were dark. You pounded up the porch stairs and knocked on the front door before opening it. You called out for them, but received no reply in return. You checked the whole house for them, but the place was deserted.

The worst could have already happened: Your father getting territorial and going after the zombies for stepping on his lawn. Of course, your mother would back him up. Together they’d crack skulls or start shooting. Your father did love his 12-gauge, after all.

The backyard was clear of anyone, and you scurried to the shed to find your old softball bat still there. You grabbed that before your eyes landed on the axe hanging between a rusting rake and partially-bent garden shovel.

You’d never hurt anyone before, and you didn’t want to start now. But you heard about what happened at the diner. You’ve seen zombie movies. Zombies chased their targets, tackled them to the ground, and ate them. You hadn’t seen any zombie do that yet, but you couldn’t take the chance.

You discarded the bat for the axe and closed the shed. There was no point in staying. With no one here, it was no safer than your place. You walked around the side of the house and paused when you saw a man walking in the middle of the street.

With the off-cadence of his stride, you took him for a zombie. The bloody sweater vest and gaunt features added to your suspicions, too. The zombie was distracted in his shuffling by the sound of a vehicle. He grunted, heading towards the rumble of the engine.

You crossed the yard, axe at the ready. The car rolling up to the zombie was no ordinary car, though. It was a patrol car. Relief was instant. You didn’t want to be out here alone with the undead. You could ask them if Ronnie was okay.

From the passenger side of the car, a police officer in gray leaned out the opened window. They were male and had dark hair with a long machete in their hands. You thought you recognized those arms.

“Excuse me,” you heard them say to the zombie before cutting the thing’s head off.

Light glinted off the officer’s glasses. Dark hair, glasses, a mean swing. You stumbled forward, praying you were right.

“Ronnie!?” you cried.

The officer jerked around to look at you. It  _was_  Ronnie.

“Ronnie Peterson?!”

Recognition dawned on his face, and he called your name.

“Yeah!” You let the axe hang by your leg. “Oh my God, I’m so glad to see you.”

The patrol car stopped, and Ronnie fumbled out. He left the machete in the car and raced to you. You smiled at him and met him halfway. He put his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. You giggled and held the axe away as he spun.

He met your eyes for a second before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back. It wasn’t like the kiss you’d shared at the end of the date. It wasn’t sweet. It was hotter, a little meaner. Hungrier. It was desperate and full of relief. He nipped at your bottom lip. His tongue skimmed against yours. He made you forget your circumstances, if only for the moment.

“You two done out there?” the driver interrupted. “We got a town to clear.”

Ronnie smiled at you and loosened his hold. You slid down his front, feeling every firm inch of him. No, you weren’t done with each other, but the kiss would do for now.

He escorted you to the patrol car and got you in the backseat. The cab light revealed Officer Robertson in the driver’s seat and a new officer—you didn’t know her name—in the back. You greeted them as Ronnie closed the door for you.

Robertson asked, “You know how to use that axe?”

You looked at the wood handle resting between your knees. “Yes, sir.” Couldn’t be much different than swinging a bat, you figured.

“Good, maybe now we have a better chance of surviving.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com)


End file.
